


Best out of Three

by CorruptedVision



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Body Worship, Bondage, M/M, Scriddler, Shameless Smut, Smut, riddlecrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorruptedVision/pseuds/CorruptedVision
Summary: A one-night stand turns into far more than Edward expected, but he can’t say he isn’t enjoying it.





	Best out of Three

Best out of Three

By Indiana

 

 

**Characters: Edward Nygma, Jonathan Crane [Scriddler]**

**Synopsis: A one-night stand turns into far more than Edward expected, but he can’t say he isn’t enjoying it.**

 

 

 

That Saturday night, Edward had a little too much and lost some of his discretion.

Suddenly in need of some close contact, as intimate as possible, he scanned the bar for anyone he had a good knowledge of on sight.  He’d never made friends with anyone who frequented it, but he had an idea of the regulars and what kind of people they were.  Down the bar sat a disheveled man who had been consumed by middle age, reading, of all things, as always nursing his one tumbler of bourbon.  He was one of the most unattractive men Edward had ever seen, but his eyes!  Every positive ounce of his appearance seemed to have been banked there.  Edward considered him a moment more, then got up.  He wasn’t feeling too picky at the moment and he did not at all mind a challenge, if it came to it.

He swaggered down to the empty seat next to him and rested the remains of his Sambuca on the bar, leaning on his arm.  “Excuse me,” he said in his smoothest voice.  The man looked up at him, and Edward was momentarily held in thrall by the clear beauty of his gaze.  “Are you here with anyone?”

The man looked around uncertainly, possibly wondering if it was him Edward was talking to.  He waited with great patience.

“I’m... here alone.”

Edward placed a hand on his arm.  “How would you like to head out with me?”

The man stared at his arm as though Edward’s hand were some alien thing he could not comprehend.  “We can go somewhere neutral,” Edward went on.  “You don’t have to come to my house.”

“I have a pickup truck parked in the corner of the lot,” the man said.

Edward had never had sex in the bed of a pickup truck before.  “Sure,” he said.  “When you’re ready we can -“

The man downed the remainder of his drink then and there.  He held out a bony hand.  “Jonathan,” he said.  Edward gripped and shook it firmly. 

“Edward.”

The truck seemed only slightly younger than its owner, and parked so that the bed was facing away from the storefront.  Edward’s thoughts of full intercourse there were doused both by the temperature and the remembrance that he had not exactly planned for that.  But he was still determined to make it worth both their while.

Jonathan did not put much effort into the whole thing, which was disappointing.  He seemed somewhat frozen by the ordeal, as though it were all a dream to him and he was afraid moving would shatter it. To ensure he was still on board Edward did get him to undo his own pants, which he did without delay.  His penis was as ugly as the rest of him but long enough Edward decided not to care.  Because it was starting to snow he made quick work of the other man, who finished without a sound into Edward’s mouth.  He spat it out over the side of the bed, shuddering a little, and then looked back at Jonathan.  He had pressed his head into the frame of the truck and seemed deeply dazed. 

“Not a bad way to end your night, eh?” he asked, and Jonathan smiled.

“I wouldn’t mind returning the favour sometime,” he said, his voice faint, and Edward put a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll see.”  And why not.  Edward had nothing in particular lined up.

The next week saw a warmer night, an eager Jonathan, and an Edward that had imbibed much less than before all combining to find them in the bed of the truck again, and to Edward’s great surprise Jonathan was actually incredibly skilled.  He began first upon Edward’s neck, his rough lips caressing a gentle heat into the skin there.  Edward had to take a regrettable moment to remove his jacket then, and Jonathan took this as a sign to press tiny kisses into the corner of his jaw.  Good God. 

His hand was wrapped firmly around the inside of Edward’s thigh and he could already feel the eager twinge in his crotch.  Jonathan had a single thumb nestled against one of his lamentably covered testicles, and Edward wanted nothing more than for it to move up higher.  The hand tightened a little further around his leg as Jonathan moved onto long, slow pulls of their lips, and just as Edward was about to bring the hand that was not pushing Jonathan into him down to press _some_ relief into his aching crotch, Jonathan abruptly moved his hand up and cupped it.  Edward groaned against his mouth.  Jonathan pressed his lips against Edward’s ear and said, “I cannot wait to take you in my mouth and feel you deep in my throat.”

He said it in such a husky, smoky way that it sent a bolt of electricity straight down to the top of Edward’s cock and he just about wasted his load then and there.  He held his breath and clenched one fist very hard and willed himself to wait.  Jonathan’s withdrawal from his ear was punctuated by a long, slow sucking of his earlobe, and he had to twist his thighs together over Jonathan’s hand in order to contain himself.  Jonathan’s low laugh only made matters much worse and he groaned a little in desperation.

Jonathan’s fingers deftly undid his pants and rolled his underwear down beneath his genitals, and he sighed when they met the cool air.  Jonathan rubbed one finger lightly in a circle over his scrotum.  Edward squirmed a little, his belly burning with anticipating heat.  “I must admit I wasn’t expecting this out of you,” he gasped, watching as Jonathan’s thumb travelled into the groove between his genitals and his hip.  His answering smile was small but nearly smug. 

“I like to leave it as a surprise,” he said softly, and while still pressing his thumb into Edward’s thigh he leaned down and brought his mouth over Edward’s shaft.  Oh, _finally._  

It became something of an unspoken battle between them then, as Jonathan sucked on him as slowly and sensuously as possible and he struggled not to give up.  He lost when Jonathan oh so carefully placed his tongue against Edward’s tip, immediately using his thumb to press on Edward’s taint and pull forward very hard, and some raw noise escaped Edward’s throat as he released into Jonathan’s mouth.  He melted against the side of the truck bed, suddenly delirious with both pleasure and exhaustion.  Jonathan licked the tip clean and politely covered Edward back up again.  He then settled himself into the back of the truck next to Edward, putting an arm around his shoulders.  Despite not knowing him… well, at all, really, it was comforting, somehow, to be leaning against him.  It took him a few minutes to catch his breath, and in those minutes his skin and the sweat on it had cooled to the point he was beginning to shiver.

“I’d like to see you again,” Jonathan said, his voice breaking through the chill darkness, and Edward looked up at him.  His eyes were fixed on some invisible horizon.  “We don’t have to do… this.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”  Was Jonathan suggesting they move onto a _relationship?_   He was an alright casual sex partner so far, but a _boyfriend_?  Far-fetched.  Unrealistic.

But Edward found himself thinking about Jonathan.  A lot.  He had the urge to know just what was behind those eyes of his.  How he was so proficient when he left nothing physical to be desired.  This chance encounter that was supposed to be an evening of idle entertainment was getting out of hand.

The next week was too cold for them to go outside, so they instead sat in Jonathan’s truck and listened to one of the talk radio stations.  The cab had a leather bench spanning the width of it, and it came to a point where Edward’s head was in Jonathan’s lap as he lay down as much as space permitted.  Jonathan’s fingers ran through his hair very carefully, and added to that was the sonorous voice of the radio host and the soporific heat inside the truck.  It all put Edward right to sleep for a while.  When he woke up it was because a very loud woman had come on the air and when he remembered where he was he noticed Jonathan’s hand had stilled.  He tilted his head back to see Jonathan leaning against the door, asleep as Edward had just been.  He changed the radio station to something less volatile and waited there until Jonathan woke up, about twenty minutes later.  Jonathan didn’t ask why he hadn’t left and Edward didn’t tell him.  Not that he could have, because he didn’t know.

The weather didn’t turn for the better so the next week found them staying inside, to Edward’s sexual frustration.  Over the past two weeks he had been having recurring dreams of Jonathan leaning over him, his hands over Edward’s body but not quite touching it.  Edward would tense up in his sleep, waiting for Jonathan to begin to work his magic across his skin, but all he got for his trouble was to wake up suddenly with his own hand clenched around a very painful erection and Jonathan’s name on his lips.  He couldn’t keep living like that.  He and Jonathan either had to find a new place to meet, or he had to find a new friend with benefits.

“I have something to show you,” Jonathan said a few evenings later, the two of them deep into their respective drinks.  He turned his head to face Edward.  “But you must come with me.  I cannot move it.”

Edward frowned.  Intriguing, but also suspicious.  “What is it?”

Jonathan traced the circle of his glass.  “You need to see it.”

It was starting to snow quite a lot when they got outside, and Jonathan drove the truck some distance away without seeming fazed and without a word.  Edward began to wonder if this was a good idea.  Apprehension was tightening his stomach.  He was used to doing things without having a care for the consequences, but this… this might have been going too far.

Jonathan eventually came to a stop outside of what appeared to be an old warehouse.  Edward wondered if he should just attempt to wrest control of it then and there, but when Jonathan opened the door and climbed out he found himself following.  He was here, so he might as well.  The storm had only worsened and Jonathan’s truck was a manual without snow tires.  Edward did not want to be driving it in these conditions.

Jonathan opened the door and flipped on the lights to reveal what appeared to be some sort of impromptu lab.  There was a series of tables grouped into a square, each covered in some quantity of equipment.  One table held mostly books and papers, one was covered in phials and tubes containing some sort of orange liquid, and another…

“Is that… a body?” Edward asked, not all that inclined to look.  Jonathan walked around to it and ran his finger down the tabletop.

“Yes,” Jonathan answered.  “I have been attempting to develop a chemical that inspires great fear in a man.  Unfortunately, this one… succumbed to the dose.”

Edward was frozen in place.  He had _killed_ someone? 

Well… he hadn’t _killed_ him.  It had been an accident.  He’d probably been a volunteer.  Jonathan was probably just telling him about it because he didn’t know what to do.  His pulse had gone up a little.

“Once I have it worked out, everyone will reap the benefits,” Jonathan continued.  “But until then…”

“Is that all you wanted to show me?” Edward snapped.  It hadn’t been worth the trip out here!  Jonathan paused.

“Not exactly.  But if you’d like to leave we can.”

Edward glanced out of the window inset in the door.  He could not even see through it, the falling snow was so thick.  There was something hot in his stomach. 

“I can’t leave in this,” Edward said, shaking his head.  “I’m going to have to stay here.”

Was he _really_ stuck here, in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere, with a man developing _fear medication_ who had accidentally _killed_ someone?  Was this even actually _happening_?

“I have… in the other room, there’s a couch,” Jonathan told him, turning away.  “It is not altogether comfortable, but it serves its purpose fine.  You can sleep there.”

“What about you?”

Jonathan drifted to the battered window, his glasses sharp in the reflection.  “Oh, I’ll find something to do,” he said, a little dreamily.  He moved away, back towards the centre of the circle of tables, and there was something magnetic in his eyes just then that forced a hard swallow into Edward’s throat.  He suddenly had no interest in finding that couch.  He had the feeling Jonathan was not invested in that idea either.

Before he’d had any time to go further than that thought, Jonathan had moved on him, pressing their bodies together with great violence.  His hand was on the back of Edward’s head, forcing their mouths together, and the other… the other was clenched hard around Edward’s crotch.  When Jonathan released him from the kiss his eyes burned into Edward’s with the unspoken question.  Edward hesitated for only a moment before he pressed his own hand atop Jonathan’s.  Guilty of involuntary manslaughter or not, Jonathan had already proven to be an excellent lover, and as long as he kept that chemical far away from Edward he might as well have one last go of it.

Jonathan kissed him again with more force than Edward had ever expected from a man of his size, and he was forced back and back until he collided with the table behind him and fell over the books and papers scattered across it.  Jonathan was left standing, and as Edward tried to catch his breath he gasped an apology.  Jonathan’s smile sent a chill into his stomach that had nothing to do with his mounting arousal.

“Don’t be,” he said, and in two lightning movements that Edward barely even saw he swept the remaining contents off the table with one arm and then lifted Edward’s legs onto the vacated space.  Edward had just begun to think to himself what a good idea that was when Jonathan wrenched his arms around the edges of the table with surprising force and confined them there beneath it.  As Edward instinctively struggled to free them Jonathan moved to the other end and secured his lower legs as well, spread to be about two feet apart.  The bonds were tight.  His attempts to pull his arms free resulted only in a tearing pain across his shoulders, and between that and his legs the bindings were secure enough that he could barely move any of the rest of his body either.  He was forced to breathe in open-mouthed gasps, his throat tight and his pants seeming increasingly so, despite the circumstances.  Shit.  Oh shit.  Oh shit.

Jonathan reappeared.  With his long and elegant fingers he very slowly began to unfasten the buttons of Edward’s shirt.  Edward could not keep himself from trying to get free, though intellectually he knew it was useless.  “Are you going to kill me,” he said, his voice weak and craven.  He hated the sound of it, but he had no power here at all and his entire body knew.  He could not get a single inch of him to deny it.  Jonathan frowned slightly, undoing the third button with great care.

“No,” he said, sounding vaguely insulted.  “That would be a terrible, terrible waste.”

“Waste of what?”  He didn’t think he could talk his way out of this, but he could try.

Jonathan did not answer until he had finished his task, upon which time he laid beside Edward’s ribs each side of the shirt.  Then he looked at Edward and said, “A waste of your magnificent body, of course.”

Oh _no_.  Oh _shit_.

He fought again to free himself, a desperate beat flowing through his veins, but he was unequivocally _trapped_.  Pressed with no mercy against a rough and unforgiving board, arms stretched to their limit.  He found himself wanting to beg to be let go, but he bit his tongue.  His pride wouldn’t save him, but it was all he had left.

“Why are you doing this?” he found it in him to say.  He was sweating profusely.  He could feel the moisture gathering in his temples and beneath his arms and, worst of all, between his legs, for his fear had seemed only to make his arousal _worse_.  It pinged away in one corner of his mind, distracting him.  He was of the mind to tell Jonathan he didn’t _care_ what he did, as long as he did not allow Edward to have to remain in this unbearably unsatisfied state for much longer.  His legs were so tight against the tabletop that he could not even attempt to press his thighs into his genitals for a second’s worth of relief. 

Jonathan did not answer the question; he merely moved out of Edward’s range of sight.  When he returned he had in his hand a large knife, old and pocked with rust, and Edward lost all breath on the sight of it.  He almost sobbed.  “Please don’t,” he whispered as Jonathan neared.  He could smell the oxidation, it was so severe upon the metal.  “Please don’t hurt me.”

Jonathan laid the knife down on the table very carefully, and raised himself up to sit upon the edge.  He caressed Edward’s cheek very softly with the curl of his fingers.  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said gently, and it was such a bizarre contrast to the rest of the situation he almost felt as though he were dreaming the whole thing.  He was in an abandoned barn, holding the contents of a man’s illegal experiments and a _dead body_ , tied to a table and having his clothes slowly removed by a man whose words did not match his actions as snow and ice whipped about outside.  Jonathan continued to stroke his face with what felt like devotion, but it did not alleviate Edward’s feelings a whit.  Adrenalin still seemed to be coursing directly from his heart into his crotch, and he had not taken a full breath in over five minutes.  He was becoming somewhat lightheaded.  It only added to the sensation that none of it was actually happening.

“Don’t hurt me,” someone that might have been him whispered.  Jonathan kissed that man’s brow.  Edward’s brow.  It was Edward’s brow.

“I’m not going to,” he repeated.  “Let me tell you something.”  And he dismounted from the table and picked up the knife.  Edward’s body tensed with a primal urgency and he stopped breathing for a moment.    

Jonathan leaned over him and pulled his undershirt from beneath his pants, smoothing it out overtop but not coming close enough to brush against the throbbing organ that so desperately needed some form of attention.  He then used the knife to very slowly slit the undershirt down the side, along the seam.  “Ever since that day where you allowed me the privilege of pleasuring you for the first time,” Jonathan said, his voice hushed, “I knew that I needed to witness the rest of your incredible beauty.”

This was… an odd way of doing that.  But he found himself flattered.  Very, very flattered.  His cock reminded him painfully of its need for physical flattery, and he again attempted to bring his thighs together.  The exercise in futility almost brought a whimper out of him.

Edward’s flushed skin welcomed the cool air moving through the slit Jonathan had cut, the cotton garment having long become sticky with sweat.  Jonathan moved the knife to Edward’s throat, which spasmed involuntarily. 

“Ssh,” Jonathan said, and he inserted the knife’s tip into the curve denoting the neckline of the shirt.  He pulled it through the fabric over Edward’s shoulder.  He repeated this on the other side and laid the knife down then.  Edward’s breath came a little easier.

Jonathan pulled the cut shirt from beneath Edward’s body and discarded it out of sight.  Edward’s moment of respite was spoiled by the thought he did not know what was to happen next.  Swallowing again became difficult.  His arms hurt from being so tightly locked beneath the table, but the ache of his genitals was so pervasive it barely had the ability to bother him.  All he could think of was Jonathan’s cool hands caressing his length and drifting over the tip...

He couldn’t help it; the thought wrenched a moan from his throat.  Jonathan smiled and sat beside him again, one hand lightly atop his chest.

“Are you going to explain what you’re doing?” Edward gasped, in a futile attempt to distract from what he’d done.  Jonathan traced one finger along the line of the rib directly beneath his breasts.

“You’re the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Jonathan murmured, “and the more often I see you the more beautiful you become.”  His thumb traced out the circumference of Edward’s nipple, which immediately hardened.  He was acutely reminded of his severe erection, trapped inside of his pants, and he bit the inside of his cheek.  Jonathan’s hand ghosted to the middle of Edward’s chest and he smiled fondly at it.

“Look at you,” he continued, voice very soft.  “Look at how broad your shoulders are.  How solid your chest.  And…”  He caressed the hair his hand was covering, and Edward was still on heavy alert but most of his brain was screaming for Jonathan’s hand to move lower, lower… and it _did, thank God it did_ , and as he traced the line that led down to Edward’s genitals he said, “I would give a lot to have hair like this on my body.”

That was… unexpected.  “You… don’t have any?” Edward managed.  His breath was coming a little easier.  Jonathan shook his head, his finger pausing at the boundary enacted by the waistband of Edward’s pants.  He instinctively tried to move his hips into the questing hand but could not.  He wanted to _scream_ with frustration. 

“This is my favourite,” Jonathan said, and he again gently moved his finger along the strip that ran down Edward’s belly.  It sent a shiver to exactly the wrong place.  “A manifestation of the link between the heart and the genitals, which are so often so tightly linked.  One prize leads to the other.”  He pressed a kiss to Edward’s heaving stomach, and he had to clench his tongue between his teeth with great force to keep from making a sound.  He could not keep from shuddering.

Jonathan again left one hand against Edward’s nipple, and as he did this he buried his nose in Edward’s neck for a good few moments.  Edward had no idea where he was going with this anymore, but he did know most of the fear had gone.  Whatever Jonathan was doing was incredibly bizarre, but also incredibly arousing.  He could keep on doing it, as long as he didn’t leave Edward hanging.

“Your scent is exquisite,” Jonathan said, sitting back up and moving his hand to cradle Edward’s neck.  Edward was a little confused; he had most definitely perspired right through all of his deodorant and cologne by now.  All that was left was the heavy tang of his fear-inspired sweat.  “Something I have always found regrettable is the fact that a man is given such a wonderful scent of his very own, and yet he is forced to take great pains to cover it up.  Those great pains are often unappreciated; the work he is expected to go to, in order to disguise the so intrinsically alluring… it is such a terrible shame.”   

His hand drifted to Edward’s waist.

“And then we have… the very most magnificent part of a man.  The most beautiful part, which he is forced to keep pressed into his body all day and pretend doesn’t exist.  It is subject to untold shame and criticism and ridicule, and no matter what a man does with it it is never enough.  Well, I will tell you something, Edward: you have beautiful genitals.”

The quiet conviction in his speech was powerful.  He wanted Jonathan to keep talking.  To keep telling him how attractive and unappreciated and well-made he was.  God, everything hurt.  Breathing had again become difficult.

“You’d like me to free them, wouldn’t you,” Jonathan said quietly.  His hand had settled on Edward’s belly again, his fingers massaging it with firm force, and that only made it all worse.  “It hurts, doesn’t it.  You feel as though you’ve swelled to several times your natural size.  Your clothes are suffocating.  Painful.  The throbbing is nigh unbearable, and you wonder how you have not burst your seams yet.  Oh, if you could only bring your thighs together…”

Edward cried out and _struggled_ again to move.  There were actual tears in the corners of his eyes.  Damn it!  Damn him!  His chest heaved.  “Come on,” he rasped.  “Haven’t you been at this long enough?”

“Almost,” Jonathan told him, and he slowly pulled the end of Edward’s belt through the buckle.  He felt almost ill as a rush of relief crashed over him.  Finally.  Finally, he –

Jonathan had tightened the belt a notch. 

“Oh God,” he gasped, and he could again feel his entire body awash in a fresh sheen of sweat.  “Oh my   
God _why –_ “

Jonathan came up to him and caressed his damp temples.  His cool hand felt good there and he _needed it around his cock immediately_ –

“You’re hurting,” Jonathan whispered, and Edward was so starved for air he almost couldn’t even see him.  “But I cannot help but note you have not once asked me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to _stop_ , I want you to _keep going, dammit_ ,” Edward managed.  Jonathan smiled a little and ran a finger along his cheekbone.

“I am.”

Edward’s eye darted downward at the sudden realisation that he could not be the _only_ one affected by all of this.  Jonathan’s crotch was dark with his own heavy arousal, and Edward shook his head.

“How can you stand it?”

“I’m used to it,” Jonathan said.  “I’ve spent much of my life having to hide it.  Hide what I feel, and what it does to me.  To contain it until I have a few private moments to find relief, and in each and every one of those moments feel the fear of discovery spiking through my body.”  He stroked Edward’s cheek.  “It’s why I had to do this.  I had to show you the height you could go to.  Fear and arousal are so deeply, powerfully linked.  And you were so afraid, weren’t you.  Your heart pounding in your chest.  Your breath short in your lungs, the heat in your body retreating to your vitals.  And all of it.  Feeding your desire.  The pulse of adrenalin aroused you like nothing ever had, didn’t it.”

“Yes,” Edward whispered.  Jonathan kissed him, with sudden violence, and the force of it went straight downward and he groaned and ground his head against the table.  He didn’t feel it.  He could barely feel anything beyond the screaming, needy ache between his legs. 

“You can just about feel every stitch in your underwear now, the pattern seeming indelibly pressed against your trapped erection.  It seems you will never be free of your clothes now; you have been pressed against them so hard for so long that they might as well be a part of your skin.”

“No!” Edward shouted.  It _couldn’t_ end like that!  But he _could_ feel it, he _could_ feel the damned cloth of his underwear seemingly embedded into him, and how tightly wrapped his pants were around his thighs, and he would _never be able to undo that belt_ …

Jonathan sat down next to him again and circled one cold finger around his nipple, then trailed it down slowly, oh so slowly, beneath his chest and down his belly and _just beneath the press of his belt_

He cried out again and his entire body spasmed violently in an attempt to shift upward into Jonathan’s hand, and the sudden strain tore through his shoulders, silencing him.  As he clenched his teeth Jonathan’s hand moved from his waist to his shoulder.

“Do you want me to untie you?” he asked.  Edward needed a minute to catch his breath.

“No.”

He kissed Edward’s brow.  “I will be right back.” And he moved out of sight.

There was a deep, cloying heat in his belly, and his breath seemed in time to the desperate, pulsating need between his legs.  He craned his neck around as far as he possibly could.  Where had Jonathan gone?  What could he even possibly have needed to go and _do_ at a time like this?  The thought of being trapped like this for much longer brought a groan out of his throat.  No.  No, he couldn’t.  His body demanded acknowledgement, touch, _release_.  “Jonathan!” he rasped.

“Ssh,” Jonathan said, sitting on the table again.  “I had to get some things.”

“What could you _possibly_ need to get?”

“A surprise.”

“Oh God.”

Jonathan’s laugh only added to his pain.

He slowly undid Edward’s belt and slid it off, letting it drop to the floor.  Every button he unfastened on Edward’s pants brought with it undeniable moans of relief.  He moved them down to about Edward’s knees very gently.  Edward did not feel any better to know that his crotch was so near freedom; in fact, it only felt _worse_.  Anticipation was firing directly into his shaft, making it throb with electric need, and he was becoming dizzy.  His eyes were tearing again and he looked at the ceiling, trying to take a full breath.

“Jonathan, please,” he whispered.  “You’re about to go too far.”  If he had to go through all of this and not even be able to orgasm…

He felt the rough face of the knife against his leg and the careful motions as Jonathan cut through his underwear, and when they had finally been removed he expected relief but somehow tension only ran hotter through his body.  Now that his cock was out he _needed it touched –_

“Relax for me,” Jonathan soothed.  He tried to; he couldn’t tell if it had worked, but Jonathan seemed to think so because he slowly moved his own length into Edward.  He was slick and cool, which did a lot to pull the heat so plaguing his genitals, and even though they hurt terribly still he closed his eyes.  It felt… good, and _right_ to have Jonathan there.  His strokes were careful and reverent, and Edward’s breath escaped him in small gasps for each one.  He had no idea how Jonathan managed to keep quiet. 

Jonathan was leant over him, one hand against the table and the other cupping Edward’s testicles.  Once he had settled into his rhythm he let his hand slide up Edward’s shaft at the same time and it was _glorious_.  He was being beautifully, lovingly caressed in two ways at once and thinking about anything else but the incredible pleasure of this was impossible.  His cheek was pressed into the table and his eyes closed, his breath in time with Jonathan.  Jonathan’s thumb somehow found the inclination to slide up to Edward’s tip and he moaned.  Jonathan’s thrusts grew stronger, though no less reverent, and his head was bent and his breath hot against Edward’s chest.  Edward desperately wanted to press him there, to press Jonathan further into himself, and keep him there.  God, he wanted to keep him there. 

Jonathan’s hand was gripping his ribs now; he must have lowered himself onto one elbow.  His thumb was caressing Edward’s nipple again, and there was so much sensation running through Edward’s body just then it almost overwhelmed him.  He couldn’t even exhale without a moan escaping him at the same time.  God, who would have expected this out of a skinny older man who went to bars to _read_?  An especially deep lunge brought Jonathan’s mouth to his throat, and the long, hungry kiss he applied there got Edward so frustratingly close to the edge but refused to tip him over.  It still felt good enough that he sighed into Jonathan’s ear. 

Jonathan jerked out of time suddenly, and when Edward looked to see why Jonathan was kneeling with his back arched, mouth open to inhale a long and shuddering breath, eyes closed as though he had just seen the most beautiful thing on earth and wanted nothing more than to view the memory of it behind his eyelids forever.  It sent one last jolt deep through Edward’s body, and he too, finally, had his release.  It was so powerful that his body sought to tense up one last time as he cried out, the waves of pleasure so great that he could not even think about anything other than how _incredible_ it had felt, and his cock managed one final spasm before going rewardingly limp in Jonathan’s hand.

He was exhausted.  He never wanted to move again.  He also didn’t want to dispel this haze of bliss he had so deeply _earned._   Jonathan had not moved either, and was still settled deep inside of him.

“I can’t top that,” Jonathan said, his voice weak.  Edward only had the energy to laugh a little bit.

“Give me six months and you can do it again.  But can you untie me now?  I can’t feel my arms.”

He nodded, but it still took him another minute or so to gather himself enough that he could pull out of Edward.  Afterward he leaned forward to pull one last kiss out of Edward’s lips, which he sleepily obliged.

Jonathan moved over the edge of the table with labour and did as he’d been asked, laying Edward’s arms beside him.  He winced.  Even through the pleasure they hurt quite a lot.  He released Edward’s legs as well and he grunted.  This had been an exercise in equal parts pleasure and pain. 

His stomach was thoroughly sticky but he had no desire to do anything about it.  Jonathan was cupping his testicles again and pressing his thumb into the bottom of his pelvis, and it felt nice so he let him.

“Hey.”

“Mm.”

“Do you have anything to eat here?”  He was coming down slowly, but he could already tell he was starving.

“I don’t,” Jonathan said.  “I didn’t actually expect you to get stuck here.”

“I guess I’m going to sleep, then.”  Which was fine.  But he was going to be irritable when he woke up hungry.  He was about to move onto his side to get some relief from being on his back for so long when Jonathan stopped him.

“Let me clean you up first.”

It took Jonathan about two minutes to come back with a damp cloth, which he used to wipe the residue off of Edward’s stomach and genitals.  He rubbed it up and down the shaft a little bit.  “You really like touching that, don’t you,” Edward murmured, eyes already closed.

“I like touching all of you,” Jonathan answered.  “Some parts are less accessible than others.”

That sent a pleasant warmth into Edward’s stomach.  No one had ever held his body in such high esteem before.  He had to say it would be nice to hear more of it, though perhaps in less stressful circumstances next time.

He must have nodded off for a moment because he was suddenly aware of Jonathan tucking a blanket over him he didn’t recall him leaving for.  Jonathan said, in that beautifully low way directly into his ear, “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes,” Edward answered, without hesitation.  Jonathan pressed a kiss behind his ear.

“You were so very beautiful,” he whispered, and Edward had the fleeting thought that it would be nice to share a bed with him someday so Jonathan could hold him all night after saying that.

 

//

 

He woke up to an ache in his stomach, and when he tried to work out why he was so hungry he remembered where he was.  He rolled onto his back and winced.  Most of his body was not happy about last night.  When he considered the consequences, though, he decided he would gladly do it again.  It had been so rewarding.  He sat up and leaned forward slowly to stretch out his back.

Jonathan was asleep on the couch in the other room that he’d mentioned, but he had had to bend his knees to keep his legs from extending off the edge.  He had put his underwear back on, and Edward was reminded that his had been cut into pieces.  He frowned.  He hated having to wear pants without them.  But he returned to the main room and put his clothes on because he was getting cold.

While he was waiting for Jonathan to wake up he wandered over to the side of the room he had been… distracted from and was suddenly reminded Jonathan had said he had _killed_ someone.  Now he had his mind more or less straight, however, that made very little sense.  For one thing, the apparent corpse carried no odour at all.  When he took a closer look, he discovered it was indeed a fake. 

He rounded the other table and picked up one of the vials of vaguely orange liquid, bringing it to his nose.  It smelled like… orange juice.  He stuck his finger inside and licked a drop of it.  It _was_ orange juice.  Watered down orange juice.  He stared in Jonathan’s general direction, confusion mounting.  What the hell was going on here?

Jonathan did not seem to be much of a morning person, because he didn’t say anything to Edward when he woke up; he just started leaving, apparently taking it as a given Edward would follow him.  They had been in the truck about five minutes when Edward finally had to say, “So… your dead body.  Was it… ever alive in the first place?”

It took Jonathan a moment to register his words, but then he smiled.  “It never was.”

“I’m sure you _could_ kill someone with orange juice, but it would be exceedingly difficult.”

“You know.  Some people just really do not like their citrus.”

Edward folded his arms.  “What was the point of all of that?  If you’d asked if I wanted to do a scene, I would have just said yes.”  It was a little unusual to be asked that so early on, but hey, who ever said pacing couldn’t be played with a little?

“I don’t know what that means,” Jonathan said.  “But if I had asked you, there would have been a lurking element of safety.  You wouldn’t have been truly afraid.  And I needed to see that.”

“Why?”

He rubbed one hand under his eyes before putting it back on the steering wheel.  “Because the state of pure fear is one of the most beautiful a man can ever be seen in.  His entire being directed towards it.  You may truly _see_ a person when they are in the throes of pure terror.  I had to know what you looked like, and I was not disappointed in my anticipation.”  He glanced at Edward.  “I understand if you’re upset.”

“I mean…”  Edward lifted his hands.  “I get where you’re coming from, but you know that’s really… weird?”

“I am aware of it.” 

As bizarre as it was, Edward really didn’t mind that much.  Jonathan had scared the hell out of him, that was true.  But when Edward had made protests, Jonathan _had_ listened.  If Edward had gotten angry instead and demanded Jonathan leave him alone, he had no doubts that he would have done so.  Jonathan just seemed to have a very weird way of demonstrating how much he loved a man’s body.

Did he have any… other pages in his playbook?

When Jonathan parked next to Edward’s car there was a bit of an uneasy silence between them.  Where, exactly, did they even go from here?  Edward undid his seatbelt and reached for the doorhandle.

“I’d… like to see you again,” he said after a moment.  “We don’t have to do… that, but –“

“I’d love to,” Jonathan interrupted, and Edward nodded and opened the door. 

Were they… boyfriends, now?  Had that whole experience crossed the line from sex partners to just… partners in general?

He’d think about it later.  Just then he was in severe need of breakfast.

 

//

 

Jonathan did not reappear at the bar for about two weeks, and Edward found himself soundly disappointed.  Jonathan was intriguing, with that odd thought process he had, and Edward had been looking forward to learning more about it.  When he did come back, he looked more presentable than previously, and Edward smiled more than he’d meant to.

“Long time no see,” he said.  Jonathan stood in front of him.

“I was… doing some pre-spring cleaning.”  He rubbed the end of his nose.  “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a film at my apartment with me.  And… actually watch it.  That’s not a euphemism.”

It certainly would be an excuse for Jonathan to put an arm around him, though.  “Sure,” Edward said.  “I’m not busy.”

What Jonathan neglected to mention, however, was that his selection was in fact a horror movie.  Edward did not have the best time in the world watching it, in all honesty, but he did really enjoy the comfort of being held against Jonathan so firmly the entire time.  When he was able to think straight, that was.

“This is entertaining for you?” Edward asked, after it had concluded and he was convinced of being traumatised for life.  Jonathan’s arm was around his waist. 

“I’ll teach you,” he said.  “The great power of fear is in the anticipation.  We fear the journey more than the destination.  You can learn to enjoy both, no matter how frightening it may be, and in doing so you can take the power it has away.”

He shivered.  That sounded… he wanted to do that.  But it seemed difficult.

“Is that possible?”

“Of course it is.  You merely replace the negative connotation with positive ones.”  His hand had started curling around Edward’s thigh, his other one pressed very close to his own crotch, and Edward was not entirely convinced he realised where either of his hands were. 

“You’re really into fear, huh?”

Jonathan just smiled and rubbed Edward’s leg before removing his hand.  He almost laughed.  It was a nice attempt at recovery.  He swung his leg over Jonathan’s so that he was kneeling above his lap and took him by the shoulders.  “I’ll make you a deal,” he said.  “You can scare me as much as you want, but you have to take good care of me after.  Agreed?”

“I would never want to do anything else,” Jonathan answered, and when their kiss got much, much heavier than Edward had originally intended he decided Jonathan’s hands had been in the right places after all.  

 

 

 


End file.
